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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26443078">The Fractured Reality Of Tim Sandover</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinisinevitable/pseuds/sinisinevitable'>sinisinevitable</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Injury, Character Death, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mental Breakdown, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:27:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>786</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26443078</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinisinevitable/pseuds/sinisinevitable</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since I had come back, she's been acting different. There's someone else in her place, someone has took my poor Amelia's place. And now there's this Not-Amelia lurking in her skin. I have to fix it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>OC/OC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Fractured Reality Of Tim Sandover</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is my first story that i've posted to ao3, i've spend a good amount of time reading on here and i have a book of oneshots on wattpad (yes i know wattpad) but i decided to post a short story that i cooked up for ya'll on here. so enjoy! feel free to ask questions.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There's someone lurking under her skin, ever since I've come back she's been a different person. Not my Amelia anymore, no most definitely not my Amelia. I wonder who they are daring to pretend to be my Amelia, daring to take hold of my house and masquerade as my pretty Amelia. 	</p><p>I find a way to fix that, and the idea comes to me at night laying in the bed I share with Not-Amelia. It makes me smile, a deep feral wicked grin at the prospect of getting back my Amelia. It would be so easy, just a simple swing, swing, swing, and then I’d have my oh so pretty Amelia back. Not the thing in my bed, this Not-Amelia, this imposter. But for now I can’t let on that I know this thing isn’t my Amelia, can’t show that I know Not-Amelia isn’t supposed to be here. If Not-Amelia finds out then it would be ruined and I would never get my Amelia back. </p><p>So I lay and I plan and I think of the relief I will feel when I swing and how I will feel when I get my Amelia back.  I lay and I plan until the sun comes up and Not-Amelia shifts beside me and I turn so that Not-Amelia won’t wake up and see the plan formed behind my eyes. When the bed shifts and creaks as Not-Amelia gets up I shift too, pretending that I am waking up, pretending that Not-Amelia is my real Amelia and not this fake substitute trying to replace her.</p><p> I listen to it leave, walk out of the bedroom and go downstairs, its steps heavy on the wood stairs. I lay there until I hear food being cooked in the kitchen, it means Not-Amelia is where I need it. I rise out of bed, content in the knowledge that by tonight I will have my Amelia back beside me. I walk downstairs following the path that Not-Amelia took before me, but instead of going into the kitchen I walk outside. </p><p>I walk with purpose, heading straight to the small shed on the side of my yard, my feet spurred by the thoughts of getting my Amelia back. The door hangs caved in, not having been touched since before I left for the war. I kick down the fragile remains of warped wood to gain entry into the shed, my eyes settling on the array of tools hanging on the wall. I walk over, focusing on the hammer as I pick it up and feel its weight in my hand. I turn and head back to the house, hammer in hand. Not-Amelia would be gone soon, I would have my Amelia back and everything could go back to normal. </p><p>The door clicks shut behind me, the sound of pancakes sizzling coming from the kitchen. I walk into the kitchen, my plan finally coming to life, enamored by the fact that my Amelia would be back soon. Not-Amelia stands at the stove, wearing my Amelia’s clothes, one of my old college shirts and a pair of her pajama pants. I walk closer to Not-Amelia, my arm raising, hand gripping the hammer, ready to swing, swing, swing. Not-Amelia begins to turn as my arm comes down, the hammer hitting its head before it can see me. I watch as Not-Amelia crumples, blood coming out of the back of its head staining Not-Amelia’s blonde hair. </p><p>Slowly, so slowly, as if hours, days, weeks have passed instead of a matter of seconds, the hammer falls out of my hand, making a loud noise as it hits the floor. I stand still for a moment before walking forward and turning Not-Amelia over from where it had fallen facedown on the floor. I look over its body, taking small satisfaction in seeing the lack of breath coming from Not-Amelia. When my eyes finally reach its face happiness erupts from within me, my Amelia was looking up at me. My plan had worked, Not-Amelia ws gone, I was left with my Amelia, only my Amelia. </p><p>I took a second before standing up and pulled my Amelia up in my arms, before sitting her in one of the dining chairs. Feeling unburdened now that the imposter was gone I petted her hair, and turned back to the stove and grabbed the pancakes that Not-Amelia had made before setting a plate before my Amelia and taking another plate with me to the table. </p><p>As I sat, a smile spread across my face. Everything was going to be right, I was home from the war, and I had my Amelia back. “I think I might go down into town today. How does that sound Amelia?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i know like i said, very short story. anyways till next time<br/>-e</p></blockquote></div></div>
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